Blood On My Hands
by PickaPicChallenge
Summary: Edward Cullen has been assigned to put a stop to the serial killer that terrorizes the greater Seattle area. Too bad doing your job sometimes results in losing everything you love.


**Pick a Pic Challenge**

**Title:** Blood On My Hands

**Banner #: 61**

**Pairing:** Edward & Bella

**Genre:** Drama/Suspense

**Rating/Disclaimer: M**

**Summary:** Edward Cullen has been assigned to put a stop to the serial killer that terrorizes the greater Seattle area. Too bad doing your job sometimes results in losing everything you love.

******To see all entries for this contest, please visit (****pickapic).(twificpics).com**

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**Present Day - Wednesday, October 12th, 2011**

**Location: The corner of Bellark Avenue and Trenton Street**

"Aren't you tired of running?" I ask, the gun bobbing in my hand. She shakes her head and takes a seat in a dingy winged back chair; evidence left over from the building's last tenants.

"Not really. What's that they say? 'Ain't no rest for the wicked' or some shit like that." I take a few steps towards her. There's a red, white, and blue box of matches sitting on the table. "I should never have trusted you," she mumbles.

"You don't actually believe that, do you?"

"Believe what?" She lights a wooden stick using the strike strip and touches it to the end of her dirty, little secret; a Virginia Slim. The things she can do with her tongue never cease to amaze me; her smoke rings included.

"That you're wicked. You don't believe that, do you?"

She shrugs. "I dunno, maybe. I mean we're here, aren't we? Don't you agree?" I'm about to say 'no' when I remember that I've got a gun aimed at the pale skin of her forehead. Her legs are crossed and her left foot, the only one touching the floor, taps an unsteady beat against the cold concrete. The lace of her tarnished high-top sneaker is untied, muddy, and wet. Her hair is unruly and pulled high into a ponytail. Tonight, she could easily be mistaken for any other UDub student, ready to study the night away at a local coffee shop, and nothing like the woman that I had first encountered six months ago.

"Don't act dumb; you know exactly why you're here; why we're here." She grins at me and puts her cigarette out on the arm of the chair, moving a bit too much for my liking.

"Don't you dare move!" I shout at her. My voice echoes between the metal walls of the abandoned warehouse that we've somehow managed to find ourselves in, on this rainy, Wednesday night.

"Jesus Christ, calm down won't ya? These springs," she motions to thechair, "are digging into my ass. Give me a break."

"You know I can't do that," I groan out, hating the words as soon as they escape my mouth. I'm supposed to be in charge here, but my demands sound more like begging.

There's a squeal from somewhere behind us and I turn to find the source of the noise, not breaking my stance.

"Do you like piiiiiina coladas, and getting caug-," the janitor sings, pushing his yellow mop bucket into the room. Before I have time to think, Bella rips her Glock from the waistband of her jeans and fires two shots in his direction. Both bullets pierce the unsuspecting porter in the Carotid artery and he lets out a throaty yelp. Her shot is flawless. Dark, crimson blood splatters the nearest wall; something Pollock would truly be proud of.

I immediately radio my fellow officers, the ones surrounding the building, to let them know to hold their position. Their assistance was not yet needed.

"Why'd you have to shoot him? He didn't do anything!" Eight years on the police force hadn't prepared me for the cold-blooded murder I had just witnessed. My intestines twist and constrict. I'm having a hard time keeping my dinner down.

Bella just shrugs. Of course she does; this is nothing new to her. Killing is just part of her routine.

I take a few more small steps towards her, my gait reluctant. She shoves her gun back into its resting place.

"Bella, why don't you just shoot me and put an end to all of this?" She had the weapon and the motive, but something was keeping me alive.

"Oh your face is far too pretty to blow a hole through. Plus, I know you're not dumb enough to walk in here without a bulletproof vest. You've got a wife and kids to go home to, remember?" Her tone is menacing, accusing.

"Remember?" I hiss, "Of course I remember! It's the only thing I've thought about since last Monday!" She rolls her eyes, shifting in the chair once more. This time, I don't let my apprehension show.

"Maybe you should have thought about that then," she says casually, pulling out another match. She strikes it against the box, but doesn't reach for another cigarette. The match glows bright blue and flickers brightly in the dimly lit room. She watches it burn all the way down to her delicate fingertips. I cringe when the flame licks at her skin, but she doesn't flinch a bit. Maybe in some sick sense, she's already dead.

"You think I didn't think about them? You think my wife's face didn't run through my mind while I fucked you? You think I didn't think about how badly I was fucking up my children's lives by being with you? Maybe you're dumber than I thought!" I lock my elbows, steadying my aim. She doesn't deserve any mercy after whatshe has cost me.

Suddenly, Bella busts out into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, doubling over in joy. I squint my eyes at her.

"I don't remember you mentioning it at the time, no."

"You're a real fucking nutcase, you know that? I should just shoot you and get it over with!"

"Go ahead," she taunts, smiling sweetly. "I'd like that." This is her M.O., her shtick. She wants you to think that she doesn't care; that she's indifferent, but I know otherwise.

"Bella Swan, you forget that I know everything about you."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" She calls my bluff and I smirk at her, sweat seeping through my white dress shirt.

"Like the fact that you dropped out of college after your first year because you didn't like your roommate. Or how about the fact that you had to see a therapist for over a year when your mother walked out on you and your father for a younger man after he was caught cheating?" She huffs.

"Please. My Match dot com profile could have told you all of that."

"Not sensitive enough information for you? How about the fact that your last kill was a twenty eight year old single father of four, just doing his best to make sure his kids could have the life that he never got to have? How about the fact that his kids are now living in the shelter down on Pine, sleeping on bedbug infested cots, because of you. All because of you."

She lets her guard down, if only for a moment, and I am able to read the anguish in her eyes. She hadn't meant to live her life this way; she wasn't meant for this type of brutality. She didn't have it in her. She reminds me so much of the girl from last Monday night. But the more I think about it, perhaps the girl I had spent last Monday night with was not the real Bella Swan either. Maybe I was also just a pawn in her game.

Bella Swan was going to be the death of me.

I pull the trigger.

_**Tuesday, April 5th, 2011**_

"Isabella Marie Swan!" my Captain, Jacob Black exclaims, as he throws a manila folder onto my desk. I scrub at my eyes and take a sip of my coffee before picking it up. The file is thick and the label on the tab reads 'Isabella M. Swan'.

There's a photo inside, along with every bit of information we had gathered relating to the serial killer who has been haunting the greater Seattle area over the past nine months. It was my first glimpse at the girl who would ruin my life, but I didn't know that at the time. Looking into those chocolate brown eyes, I never would have assumed she was capable of such destruction and violence.

"Are we sure about this?" I ask, closing thefolder and dropping it on the desk. Questioning Captain wasn't my brightest decision, but she looks so innocent in the portrait that her family had provided.

"Positive, but she's not going to be an easy catch," he tells me, pulling out the chair opposite of my desk.

"Oh yeah?"

"We're going to have to be smart about this one," hesays, going on to tell me about a sting operation that he would like put in place. As it turns out, Isabella works for a local stock trader named Aro men she typically kills are always the same type: young, good looking, single, and most importantly; owners of local financial institutions.

All of our information pointed to Mr. Volturi as the mastermind of the organization from the get go, but somehow he has kept his hands blood free by enlisting Isabella Swan to do the dirty work.

"What would make a-," I reference the file, "twenty three year old woman commit such heinous crimes?" I ask,and Captain sighs.

"You see, Isabella's mother, Renee Swan Dwyer, went missing about a year ago in Phoenix. We suspect Mr. Volturi's involvement. We believe he is using Isabella's mother as leverage. He's making Isabella follow out his evil plan while holding her mother's safety in his hands as incentive."

"So Isabella is really just an innocent bystander?" I ask, not fully believing the story he was telling me. No, Isabella's crime spree was ugly. Her victims to date were not simply assassinated; they were tortured.

"We believe it started out that way, yes, but we also believe that Isabella has, as rudimentary as it sounds, found her life's calling. We believe she gets her kicks by seducing these guys and watching them suffer." I shake my head.

"Sounds like someone has daddy issues," I say, and Captain smiles; it's the first time since we've been working the case that he's done so.

"You're right on the mark. As it turns out, her father was the infamous Charlie Swan." I snort; what was the coincidence? Her father had been the Seattle Chief of Police in the late seventies and early eighties, but was blacklisted when information came to light of his extramarital affairs.

"So, let me make sure I understand you correctly: Aro Volturi is targeting these young business men because he wants to monopolize the local financial market?"

"Yes, that's right," Captain confirms.

"What's in it for him?"

"Money. Lots and lots of money to be made." I just shake my head.

"But instead of committing these crimes himself, he's kidnapped Isabella's mother and is using that as some type of pull to coerce Isabella into doing all of the dirty work?"

"Yes."

"And you think he chose Isabella because she's a man-eater, for lack of a better term?"

He nods.

"You nailed it. She's subconsciously killing these men as a way to even the score with daddy dearest." It's sickening and disturbing.

"And just how do you think he managed to find someone who had a natural born killer instinct waiting inside**,** trying to fight its way out?"

"Aro Volturi is a very smart man with many resources at his fingertips, Edward." I should have expected that answer.

"That he is, Sir. That he is. So what makes Isabella a hard catch? Why can't we just pick her up?"

"We've been unable to obtain information on her whereabouts for the last thirteen months."

Oh.

"So what do you suggest?" Jacob Black had not been handed the position of Captain on a silver platter. It was something he had earned; due to his incredible craftiness, and knowledge of strategic planning. I trust him on this issue.

"Well, I've been in contact with the FBI and we have come up with a little operation we like to call 'Capture the Black Widow'," he says, and I squint at him. His hand slips into his back pocket and he produces a Washington State driver's license and throws it onto the desk. I pick it up to examine it.

My eyes nearly bulge. I'd been through the police academy and a lead detective for the Seattle Police Department for six years; I didn't need him to fill in the blanks for me.

"I'm the new Jasper Whitlock."

"Exactly. Really Edward, it's amazing how much the two of you resemble one another." Captain smirks.

"Well our mothers are sisters after all. So how is this going to work?"

"Agent Call, who has been working the case for the Feds, has gotten word that Mr. Whitlock is second on the hit-list." My heart twinges a bit. His mother, Elizabeth, would be heartbroken if anything happened to her only child.

"Volturi has been setting these guys up on blind dates with Ms. Swan. We've spoken to Mr. Whitlock,and we're lucky that he's never personally met Volturi, so he is the perfect candidate for our little scheme. But for now,we just wait."

"So what do we do? What happens if someone else gets killed in the meantime?"

"Emmett McCarty is next on the list. We've already instructed him to set up the meeting, but to phone in sick that day. We'll have police detail surrounding his house just in case there is any trouble." I wipe my face with the palms of my hands.

"Tanya is not going to like the idea of me going out with another woman, for work or not." Captain stands, signifying the end of our conversation. I follow suit.

"Edward, that is strictly between you and your wife. How you handle that is your business." I shake his extended hand and he leaves my office without another word being said. He could be your best friend one second, and a complete ass the next. It's what makes him great at his job.

I sit back down, scoot my chair closer to my desk, and begin my own personal investigation into our very own 'Black Widow'. .

You'd be amazed by the things that Google's search engine will uncover.

Our very own serial killer has a public Facebook profile? I click the link.

Bella Swan, age twenty three. Likes the Muse and Kings of Leon, likes hanging out with friends, and enjoys watching Law & Order and In True Blood on HBO.

I make notes, knowing that having a little information in my back pocket about my "blind date" will only aide my case.

_**Wednesday, May 4th, 2011**_

A call is made from the office of Aro Volturi to Whitlock Investments at around 9:30AM, and is answered by Jasper's personal secretary, Amanda Beechwood. Officers intercept the call.

A lunch meeting is scheduled for Friday to discuss stocks,and the opportunity of making some mutually profitable investments.

_**Thursday, May 5th, 2011**_

I stand, patiently, in ahigh end retail store in downtown Seattle, being fitted into a monkey suit…or what I'd refer to as a monkey suit. It's Jasper's everyday attire.

"You'd better get used to it," Jasper says, as we meet later that evening for drinks to go over some formalities.

"I know. Hopefully this thing won't drag out, and we'll have the case closed in a matter of just a few days." Jasper nods.

"I still can't believe there is a hit out on me." He shakes his head and takes a large sip of his whisky, and then chases it with coke.

"Me either, but I'm glad that we got a break in the case before the Black Widow got around to you."

"Me too, man. Me too."

_**Friday, May 6th, 2011**_

With my jacket, tie, and bulletproof vest in place, I lock Jasper's silver sports car and check my ear piece.

"We've got a clear feed, Edward. Time to get this show on the road," Captain says. An undercover police van is stationed a block away. In it sit eight police officers, Captain Jacob Black, one transcriptionist, and an arsenal of weapons. We are prepared for whatever might take place within the next hour.

I take a deep breath before entering the small French Café on Spring Street that Mr. Volturi has selected for our meeting. The hostess asks for my reservation, and then subsequently leads me to a back table where my "colleague" is waiting.

"Mr. Whitlock, I presume," he says, standing up as I approach the table. His fingers are ice cold when they interlock with mine in a handshake.

Aro Volturi looks just like the photograph sitting in his file back at the office: tall, well built, slicked back ponytail, and olive complexion. He's wearing an expensive pinstripe suit, complete with a silk handkerchief in the left breast pocket.

"Mr. Volturi," I say, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I have heard so much about you." His returning smile is deviant. He pulls his chair out, tucks his napkin onto his lap, and motions for me to do the same.

"Mr. Whitlock, I am sure you are wondering why I would call and set up a meeting on such short notice."

"I did at first, I must admit. But Ms. Beechwood, my secretary, informed me that you were quite persistent that we meet as soon as possible. Something about a great investment opportunity. Do tell." Jasper doesn't really talk this formally, but I was in character and thoroughly enjoying it. Mr. Volturi takes a sip of his red wine.

"Yes, that I was," he admits. "There is a prospect of a joint venture that I think we both could reap the benefits of. You see, my CFO, Marcus Denali, has brought some stock to my attention that has not yet been made available to the public. Now of course, it goes without saying that this conversation must be kept off the record, as we wouldn't want to get ourselves into any more trouble than it is worth. However; Marcus has advised me that by investing in these stocks early, there could be a profit margin of somewhere in the neighborhood of six point three million dollars." I take a sip of my water to avoid showing the surprise on my face. That's more than I would make in a lifetime working at the Police Department!

"And how do I fit into this equation?**" **I ask, trying to sound casual. I had no idea what to do with that type of information.

"Well isn't it obvious?" Mr. Volturi asks, squinting his eyes. I'm worried that I've given up my cover until he lets out a hardy laugh. "If both of our companies bought into this stock, we could corner the market and stand to make quite a lot of money. If the Feds ever got word of any insider trading, they'd immediately jump on our trail, but no one would ever expect a couple of money hungry business moguls sharing the profit. You see, it would be the perfect cover. When one business jumps before the others; it's fishy. When two businesses take that leap at roughly the same time; it'ssmart investing. It's simply a matter of being on your game."

Mr. Volturi might as well be speaking German because he's throwing out terms, left and right, that I have no understanding of. Thankfully, the waitress returns to our table to take our order and it gives me a second to think.

"Cassoulet." Aro orders, with perfect enunciation. I decide not to push my luck and order the same.

When the waitress leaves our table, Aro leans across and speaks softly, ensuring that I am the only one that can hear.

"Listen, you don't have to make a decision today, but I am going to give you my card. My cell phone is on you've made up your mind, give me a call and we'll discuss the formalities." He places an elegant white business card on the table and slides it across to me. I take it from him and pull out my wallet, sticking it inside.

"I'll do just that, Mr. Volturi. As you know, making good investments is how I make a living; it's how we all make a living. I'd hate to make a bad one at such a pivotal time in the economy." Aro nods his head in understanding and finishes his red wine.

"I know you'll make the right choice." He states confidently, raising two fingers and ordering another glass. I'd only seen that move done before in the movies.

"And by the way, you can call me Aro." His smile is bright, cheerful, and friendly. He's a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"And you can call me Jasper," I tell him.

"Good. Now that we have the basics out of the way, we can talk like two men, out enjoying lunch." Now we're getting to the good stuff.

Aro starts off nonchalantly, discussing baseball; something all Northwest men are into. Luckily, I'm more familiar with this topic and am able to discuss it with ease.

From baseball, Aro tells me about his wife and two sons, one of which is about to enter his freshman year of college.

"He has a baseball scholarship," he says proudly, tucking into the dish the waitress has just sat down in front of him. "Not that we need the help." I smile, wondering if all business meetings could be reduced down to pissing contests.

"What position?" I ask, trying to sound interested. My stomach constricts when I realize that I have mistakenly ordered duck from the menu. Maybe if I had paid better attention in my eighth grade French class, I wouldn't have made such a mistake.

"Pitcher. He's made me a proud father. What about you, Jasper? Do you have any children?" He asks the question so indifferently, that I almost forget how essential of a turning point this is in our discussion.

"No, actually, I've never been married." Aro smiles; I'm clearly falling right into his trap. It's hard for me, a husband and father of two little girls, to act as if they don't exist, but I know I have to do what is best for the investigation.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

I shake my head. "No, I've been so busy with work that I haven't found the time to do much dating. I've kind of let that aspect of my life fall to the wayside."

"Well, if you're interested, my niece is new in town and hasn't really made many friends. She's single." He hints, taking a bite of his meal. I dab at the corner of my mouth with my napkin, my plate of food hardly touched.

"What's her name?" I ask, wanting to make sure everything was on record.

"Isabella. She's from Phoenix, but moved up here for school. She's been staying with her Aunt Ruthie and I until she can get her feet on the ground." Ah…what good information to have. I hope the guys are catching all of this back in the van.

"I'll have to look at my schedule." I tell him. It would be a little suspicious if I just told him that I kept late office hours, yet jumped on the first chance I got to go on a date with his niece.

"Sure, I understand. Like I said before; you have my number. Call me if you decide you want to meet her."

The rest of our lunch goes by without a hitch, and Aro sneaks in quite a few subtle hints about his niece. Even the most oblivious person would see what's happening here.

Aro offers to cover the bill.

"It's the least I can do; buy you lunch since I asked you here to discuss business." I smile and thank him.

We shake hands and go our separate ways, walking in different directions when we exit the restaurant.

I hop into Jasper's car, immediately hitting the button that lowers the convertible roof. I just couldn't resist.

"All clear." I radio to the Captain, as I pull out of the parking lot and make my way back to headquarters.

When I'm back at the office, I go over all of the details that I learned at today's "meeting".

"Nice work," Captain says, walking into my office later that afternoon. "Ready to put part two into action?" I nod and gaze out of the only window in the room. Rain cascades down the glass surface.

He slides a black, sleek phone across the desk.

"It's tapped," he explains, "and registered in Jasper's name." I nod, pulling Aro's card out of my wallet, carefully dialing the digits listed. It rings twice.

"Aro Volturi," he answers, his voice strong and jovial.

"Aro? This is Jasper Whitlock," I tell him.

"Jasper! So good to hear from you so soon. What can I do for you?"

"I was thinking over what we talked about at lunch; your niece to be exact." He chuckles lightly. "I was thinking I might like to take you up on your offer after all. How does next Friday sound?" I ask, trying to convey an air of confidence in my declaration.

"I'll speak to Isabella and let you know. I'm sure that shouldn't be a problem."

We exchange pleasantries before hanging up the phone.

_**Tuesday, May 10th, 2011**_

'Jasper's' phone rings at approximately 10:30 in the morning. The phone number comes in as unregistered, but the officers assigned to the case are able to trace it back to an area on the north side of town. A very nice area. A nice area that Aro Volturi happens to reside in.

"Is this Jasper Whitlock?" The female voice on the other end of the line is seductive. I can see why so many men have fallen into her web so quickly.

"This is he," I state.

"This is Bella Volturi," she says smoothly. Interesting; she isn't going by her real name. "My uncle, Aro, passed your number on to me. He said that you were an associate of his, and thought we might be able to get together this Friday. I feel a little embarrassed, but since I don't know many people here, maybe this could be fun…" I cringe at how truthful she sounds. I can already tell she is the best type of manipulator.

"I had mentioned Friday to your uncle, but if that doesn't work for you; we can reschedule." I tap my pencil against my desk, trying to play it cool. Captain gives me a thumbs up.

"No, Friday would be great. Is seven o'clock okay?"

"Seven o'clock is great. Text me your address and I'll send a car for you." Rich people rented limos all the time. Surely that wasn't too farfetched. Captain rolls his eyes.

"Sounds great!"

Fifteen minutes later, the cell phone chirps with an incoming message.

_14478 Garden Hill Dr._

_West Woods Subdivision_

_Can't wait! Xoxo_

We had her right where we wanted her.

_**Wednesday, May 11th, 2011**_

"Tanya, you know that it's my job! I wouldn't be doing this if my career wasn't on the line." My wife bangs a few pots around, splashing water out of the stockpot and onto the kitchen floor. I grab the dishtowel off of the oven handle and begin to soak up the mess.

"Edward, I don't want to hear it! Why can't you just get a nine to five job that doesn't require you to cheat?" I sigh. I knew she wouldn't take it well, but I never expected her to view it as cheating.

"I don't know what to tell you. For you to continue to stay at home and watch the girls, I cannot afford to lose this job. And I love my job. You know I worked my ass off to get where I am." A drinking glass shatters as it falls to the floor. "Would you please calm down? We're not going to have a piece of china left if you keep dropping things." I resort to the hallway closet and grab the broom.

"Just do whatever you want, Edward. You don't ever think about us when you sign up for these cases. What if Kate or Irene hears from someone at school that their daddy was out with another woman? Then what?"

"I don't think about you guys? Tanya, that is allI ever think about. It is the reason that I am putting myself in danger here. To give the girls the life we want to provide for them, I've got to keep my head down, stay focused, and do whatever Captain assigns me. You know that, we discussed this when I took this are you giving me such a hard time about it?"

That night, I slept on the couch.

_**Friday, May 13th, 2011**_

At 6:45 with an umbrella in hand, I stand in front of Cotton, an up and coming trendy restaurant in downtown Seattle, waiting for my "date".

At ten til, the limo that was sent to pick up Ms. Swan arrives, depositing her at the front entrance. I try to look unassuming and pretend I don't recognize her. Instead, I scan the crowd, my eyes dancing between all of the strangers walking down the street,as well as all of the other restaurant patrons.

"I sure hope you're Jasper Whitlock." I hear a sweet voice say from behind me. I turn around, give my best panty-dropping smile, and extend my hand. She drops the cigarette she holds between her two fingers onto the ground, and usesher very tall, expensive-looking, fuck-me high heels, to put it out.

"And you must be Isabella." I bring her hand to my lips and place a small, chaste kiss on her knuckles. Isabella is small, petite even, and comes up to about shoulder height on me. It's hard to imagine that someone as little as she is could be the serial killer that has had this town on edge for the last nine months.

"Should we go in and get out of this rain?" I suggest, and Isabella nods, biting into her lip. She's wearing a short black dress that only has one shoulder, leaving the other shoulder exposed. It's sexy, but not too sexy. A smart choice for a woman who wanted to ensure the night went as she had planned.

"Yes, please."

I open the door for her, and then follow behind.

"Name please?" the hostess asks, looking over the guest list in front of her.

"Ed-," I fumble and pretend to cough, "Sorry about that, my name is Jasper Whitlock." I look at Isabella and she smiles politely, thankfully not having caught my gaff.

"Right this way please." The waitress leads us to a nice, secluded table near the back of the restaurant. There are only three other tables visible from where we are seated.

"Wow. This place is really nice!" I feel the heel of her shoe creeping up my pants leg. I look across the table at her and she smirks, biting into her lip once again.

"Thank you for bringing me here, Jasper. I don't know that many people in town and I'm glad that you were willing to go out with someone you'd never met. Uncle Aro has been trying to help me meet some nice people. He is very protective of me, since I am new here to Seattle. I could tell from the moment that I laid eyes on you that I was going to like you." I smile at her admission, finding her little drama act quite amusing. She plays her part well.

"So, Aro said you had just moved here?" I ask, trying to make natural, polite conversation.

"Yes, when I graduated high school, Uncle Aro offered to help with my college tuition if I attended school here, near his home. It was too good of an opportunityto refuse, so I jumped on the plane and here I am. I've been staying with Uncle Aro and Aunt Ruthie until I can get my feet on the ground."

"I'm sure you'll meet plenty of new people at school. You'll be a regular Washingtonian in no time."

The waitress returns with our menus and to take our drink order.

"White wine please, Moscato," Isabella tells the waitress, and then looks at me for my choice.

"I'll have the finest bourbon you have." Hell, the Police Department's picking up the check so what does it matter to me?

"I'll get your drinks, and be back in just a bit to take your order." The waitress sashays away from the table and I can tell by the look in Isabella's eye that she does not appreciate someone toying with her prey.

"So, Uncle Aro says you own your own company." I nod my head and give her the spiel, just the way that Jasper had told it to me. I spent hours last night memorizing every single word, hoping that Isabella knew less about the financial world than I did, so I wouldn't have to spend the whole night on the defensive.

"That's really interesting. I must be honest; I don't know much about the stock market." It's like taking candy from a baby.

The waitress returns with our drinks and asks if we're ready to put in our order. She doesn't acknowledge Isabella's presence and I can tell she is starting to get frustrated. I smile at her.

When the waitress leaves, it's like the flood gates have been opened, because Isabella spends the rest of the night trying to bed me. I keep my cool, trying to remember what it was like to be flirted with. Tanya and I have been married for ten years and I can't tell you the last time we had sex, much less the last time we had a romantic dinner, just the two of us.

"You have the most amazing eyes," she says, leaning slightly across the table, putting her ample cleavage on display, just for me.

"I thought I was supposed to be the one dishing out the compliments?" She blushes, and I thank her for her compliment.

Our date goes much the same way; we go back and forth like two people actually on a first date. I'm proud of the way I've handled myself at the end of the evening. She shares information about herself, stuff I'm not sure she's making up, and I divulge a little of my personal interests.

I could easily see why most single men would follow this vixen home at the end of the night. I constantly have to remind myself of my wife at home, probably baking some God-awful kind of cookie, with my girls.

After I pay the bill, Isabella and I exit the restaurant, and I'm beginning to wonder what she's going to do to get me to go home with her.

"Well Jasper, I had a nice time tonight," she admits, biting into her lip once more. It's sexy. Surely a married man could admit that,without having any thought of committing adultery.

"I did as well." I shove my hands into my pockets.

"Maybe we can do it again?" she asks, looking through her purse for a stick of gum. What! Again? I thought her usual game plan was to wine, dine, and then kill.

"I'd like that," I tell her, my voice full of conviction. I'm worried I may have truly meant it too.

Isabella leans in. I dodge, turning my head to the left and her chaste kiss lands halfway on my left cheek, halfway on the lips. My dick responds, and I mentally chastise my body's reaction.

'You're married. You're married.' I chant in my head.

"Call me," she whispers huskily,before retreating away from me. I'm shocked. Stunned. Confused. What the hell just happened?

That night; I voluntarily sleep on the couch.

_**Monday, May 16th, 2011**_

"I don't know what went wrong," I tell Captain when we meet on Monday to discuss the events of Friday evening.

"Nothing went wrong, per se," he says, straightening his tie. "She has definitely strayed away from her usual methodology, but we've got her right where we want her. We acquired some great information from the wiretap."

_**Tuesday, May 24th, 2011**_

Jasper Whitlock's phone chimes from the top right drawer of my desk, indicating that I have received a text message.

_Bella Swan: I thought we had a connection._

_I'm hurt that you haven't called._

I sigh, staring at the pictures of my family that decorate my office. Maybe Tanya was right; maybe dating this woman, even for work purposes, could be considered cheating.

I call Captain into my office and he and I make the decision to reply back and ask for another date.

_Jasper Whitlock: So sorry, beautiful girl_

_Work has been a little overwhelming recently._

_Next Friday? I'll text you with the time and place._

The phone chirps as soon as I set it down.

_Bella Swan: Uncle Aro said you were a smart man._

_I'll be waiting to hear from you._

_XOXO_

_**Wednesday, June 1st, 2011**_

"Tanya, I'm tired of having the same discussion. You know I don't have a say in this. It's my job!" She dumps the basket of clothes on the bed and I grab a few to help her fold. I'm sure our dishes are thankful we're not having this conversation in the kitchen again.

"I'm so sick and tired of this, Edward. You're a married man for Christ's sake! Married men don't have any right to be going on dates with young, attractive women while their wives are sitting at home, taking care of their children."

"Fine Tanya. I'll call the Captain and tell him I quit. You just better think of a way to pay our mortgage and electric bill before the month is over." She rolls her eyes dramatically before snatching the t-shirt I am folding out of my hand.

"Just shut up, okay? And if you can't fold them right, don't fold them at all!"

I retreat to the doghouse; also known as the living room sofa.

It was beginning to be my home away from home these days.

_**Friday, June 3rd, 2011**_

"You named your first dog Porky Pug?" Bella snorts, holding her hand over her mouth.

Tanya has ridden my ass for the last two days, and having dinner with Bella, even if it's work related, is a nice break.

I nod at her, taking a sip of my water. "He was the ugliest thing you'd ever seen."

"What happened to him?" She twirls a piece of spaghetti around her fork and pops it into her mouth. She even makes eating the messiest dish of all time look sexy. I cringe at my thought.

'Married. Married. Married.'

"He died. Got runover by a car," I tell her, and she frowns, reaching over to place her hand on top of mine.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Jasper. I'm sure that was upsetting."

"What about you? Any family pets?"

"No. I'm allergic. I always wanted a rabbit though." I smile; what an innocent statement.

"Do you have plans for after dinner?" she asks casually. Thank God! About time we got this show on the road. The quicker we got Bella Swan behind bars, the quicker my home life could return to normal.

"No, why? Would you like to do something?" Even I notice the double-entendre in my statement. No, I have to keep this strictly professional. I am a married man and this woman is a coldblooded killer.

"I'm thinking ice cream!" She grins, and I can't help but to smile back. I wonder how she plans on turning an innocent trip for a scoop of mint chocolate chip into a crime scene, but I decide to wait and find out.

"Ice cream sounds great," I confirm.

Somewhere between the first scoop of rocky road and the short walk back to Jasper's car, the lines begin to cross.

"I can't get over how beautiful you look tonight," I tell her honestly. She smiles and snakes her hand out, grabbing hold of mine. This feels nice. Tanya and I haven't held hands in a long time.

"You look quite handsome yourself." I'd better; my suit cost more than my first three cars combined.

"Don't make me wait so long to hear from you this time," she says,as I hail her a cab. This time, when she leans in for a kiss, I don't turn away.

When I get home that night, Kate is waiting up to show me an art project she created in school. Dried macaroni glued to a paper plate.

"It's beautiful. Can I take this to my office? I want to show all the guys." She giggles.

"You're the best Daddy ever!" I smooth her blonde curls against her forehead and give her a hug.

If only she knew what I had been up to, I'm sure those wouldn't have been her words of choice.

_**Friday, June 17th, 2011**_

"Edward, you deserve the Academy Award, my friend," Captain says, sitting down across my desk. He eyes me warily.

"I'm just doing my job, Sir." It's a half-truth.

"Good. Let's keep it that way, okay?" I nod. We spend the next hour and a half going over the details of the case.

_**Saturday, July 2nd, 2011**_

We sit on the banks of Lake Washington, watching the fireworks display. Well, I sit on the bank, Isabella sits on my lap.

The little girl next to me, about Irene's age, gasps in jubilation every time a firework lights the sky. She reminds me of my children and I feel even worse about what I'm doing.

"Do you want kids one day, Jasper?" Isabella asks, and I choke on my bottle of beer.

"One day. Not today." It's the safest answer I have.

My hand grazes her back as we watch the colorful sparks thatlight the sky. Tanya always hated any type of a PDA.

_**Monday, July 4th, 2011**_

"How much longer?" I whine to the Captain. He smiles and shakes his head.

"I don't know what is going on. If I wasn't mistaken, I'd say she actually likes you. One wrong move though, and she is ours'." I sigh. I don't know if that's what I want anymore.

_**Wednesday, July 27th, 2011**_

Another date. Things heat up quickly in a back booth at a small Italian Café. Isabella's hand creeps up my leg and onto my thigh. My brain yells stop, but my body eggs her on. When her hand gently pats my dick through my slacks; I nearly cum. It's been a long time since a woman's touch had that type of effect on me.

On the way to drop her off, Isabella pulls down the zipper of my pants, releases me from my boxer briefs, and leans over. Her tongue traces the underside of my cock and I grip the steering wheel hard.

"Just drive," she instructs, before taking me into her mouth. It's the best feeling in the world.

_**Monday, August 15th, 2011**_

"You know what; until the end of this little "investigation," Tanya shouts, "you can pack your shit and stay at your parents' house. I've had enough." I want to argue with her; tell her I'm not leaving….but truth is; I'm not sure I belong with her any more.

"Where are you going, Daddy?" Irene asks as she follows me and my suitcase to the car.

"I'm going to visit Nanny and Papaw for the next couple of days." She pouts, and I lean down to give her a kiss on the forehead.

"Can I come?" My heart breaks.

"No baby, you have to stay here and keep your mom and sister company. I'll be back soon."

I cry for the first time in twenty years as I pull out of the driveway.

_**Tuesday, August 16th, 2011**_

"I'm done!" I declare, throwing my badge onto Captain's desk.

"You can't quit; we've almost gotten our girl!" He stands up, pounding his fist onto his desk.

"It's ruining my family!" It's unprofessional; this is my life we're talking about.

"What happens between you and your family is none of my business. You need this job." He's right and we both know it.

"I just can't do it anymore."

"One more date." Isabella's beautiful face runs through my mind. I swallow hard.

"One more date."

_**Friday, September 9, 2012**_

"Jasper, I love you." Isabella is pressed into my side as we snuggle beneath a blanket at her new apartment. She said it was time to get out of Uncle Aro's house and that she needed a little independence.

"I love you too." I'm not lying anymore. She smiles and climbs onto my lap. Things get out of hand quickly, but I manage to keep it in check when I remember that the Captain and my fellow officers were listening on the wiretap.

"I've got to go," I tell her and she frowns slightly, standing up to walk me to the door.

"Why won't you ever stay the night?" I shake my head and shrug my shoulders.

"I need my sleep in order to perform well at work."

"One night, you'll stay." I know she's right. I'm going to hell.

_**Monday, October 3rd, 2011**_

"Oh Jasper!" She pants, my sweat falling onto her bare flesh as I slowly thrust in and out of her. She cries out in pleasure as I reach down and flick her clit.

"Fuck me harder!" she begs and I oblige. How could a man, any man, say no to that? I roll her over, pulling her onto her knees and slide back into her. I'm not as gentle as I should be. My fingertips dig into her waist and I know she'll have a reminder of our night of passion in the morning.

"That's the spot!" But before she can get there, I cum, filling the condom that I should never have brought in the first place. I spend another ten minutes licking her sensitive nub until she cries out in pleasure. Tanya never tasted this good.

"That was amazing," she whispers, her fingertip tracing small circles in my chest hair. I kiss her softly on the forehead and pull her closer.

She had me. The Black Widow had captured another victim.

When I call Tanya the next day, she tells me she's filed for a divorce. I don't argue because some things just can't be fixed.

_**Wednesday, October 5th, 2011**_

"Hi Edward," Isabella answers cheerfully when I call her the next morning.

"Hey beautiful, wait!" I catch myself, my heart beating faster. "Did you just call me Edward?" Captain's eyes are large.

"Well, that is your name, right?" Her tone is menacing. "I should have killed you when I had the chance!" The Captain snaps his fingers.

"Isabella, let me explain. I-I," I stutter.

"Oh shut up. You are nothing but a lying, cheating, bastard!" I shake my head, unable to disagree. I am exactly that.

"Bella, I'm sorry."

"Save it!" she shouts, abruptly hanging up the phone. One thing's for sure: I am damn good at making women mad.

"Fuck!" I shout, slamming the cell phone against my desk so hard that it shatters the screen.

"Fuck? This is great! We've got her! The detectives were able to trace her location back to her apartment, and when she said that bit about killing you, we had all of the information we needed. There are two squad cars en route at this very moment."

A single tear rolls down my cheek once the Captain leaves my office.

I've lost everything…and now I was losing whatever I had with Isabella, too.

_**Thursday, October 6th, 2011**_

I'm feeling sorry for myself. The divorce papers declare that Tanya and I will share joint custody of Kate and Irene. They shouldn't have to go through that. They didn't deserve it.

Isabella is now missing. When cops arrived on the scene, her apartment was vacant; not a piece of furniture in sight. A part of me is glad she got away.

_**Friday, October 7th, 2011**_

I'm angry with myself. I can't believe I've fallen into her trap and threw everything away that I had worked so hard for over the past decade.

_**Saturday, October 8th, 2011**_

I start the most intensive, personal investigation that I've ever embarked on. Isabella is sneaky; she knows how to stay under the radar. Unfortunately for her, I'm a damned good detective.

_**Tuesday, October 11th, 2011**_

"I've got you, Black Widow." I say out loud, even though there is no one around to hear me. A map of the greater Seattle area is spread across the coffee table of my hotel room at the local Hilton. Beer bottles are scattered around.

I make a dot on the corner of Bellark Avenue and Trenton Street.

Tomorrow, I'd close in.

Tomorrow, Bella Swan would pay for what she had done.

Tomorrow, there would be blood on my hands.


End file.
